Cindy watched Bellson disappear behind the nursery doors, amazed by the woman’s transformation. From sneers to smiles, she’d become all-accommodating. It made Cindy feel funny. Why was Bellson so mean to her and nice to everyone else? She shrugged. At least Dad was happy. His smile was genuine—first one she’d seen tonight. She went over and leaned her head against his arm. Together, they watched Bellson—who had donned a blue paper gown, gloves, and a face mask—rearrange the layettes until BG Decker was in front. Then the nurse picked her up and gave them a front view of the bundle. Cindy noticed that her father was holding back tears. He’d always been good at damming his emotions. It was one of the reasons why tonight seemed surreal. She had never seen him scared.

She said, “She looks like you, Daddy.”

“No, no, no,” Magda said, rapping gently on the glass. “She look like Ginny, but she has Akiva’s coloring—the red hair and fair skin.”

“Poor kid,” Decker said. “Another lobster in the sun.”

“Suntanning isn’t good for you anyway, Daddy,” Cindy said. “And if that’s not a cheap rationalization…”

“Grandma’s right,” Marge said. “She does look like Rina.”

“Of course she does,” Magda announced. “I’m good at faces. Nu, Stefan, tell them.”

“She’s good at the faces,” her husband stated.

Decker turned to his sons. “What do you think?”

“I think she’s funny-looking,” Jake said. “She’s all red.”

Magda gently hit his arm. “You were red when you were born.”

“No, no, no,” Stefan said. “Yonkie was never red. Shmuli was red.”

Decker regarded his elder stepson, still pale but steady on his feet. He seemed lost, his eyes unfocused. “Are you okay, Sam?”

“Huh?”

Decker put his arm around the boy. “What are you thinking about?”

“I wish I could see Eema. You know…just see her.”

“Boy, I know how you feel.”

“She’ll be okay, won’t she?”

“Doc assures me she’ll be fine. I believe him, Sammy.”

“When do you think you’ll see her?”

“I don’t know, Sammy. Soon, I hope.”

“Will you call us after you see her?”

“Depends on the time.” Decker hugged his shoulder gently. “I’m not going to call you at three in the morning.”

“No, you call us, Akiva,” his mother-in-law said. “I don’t sleep much tonight anyway. You call us as soon as you see Ginny. I want to know.” She wiped her eyes. “Please, you call.”

“I’ll call.”

“Maybe you call Rav Schulman in the morning,” Stefan suggested. “Ginny would want you to call him.”